


Cold Hands

by sariloire



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Fluff, confession of love, just lotsa fluff, two nerds realising they both care about each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 10:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariloire/pseuds/sariloire
Summary: Aymeric straightened the sleeve on his shirt, knowing it was nervous fidget, but being unable to stop himself anyway. He had invited the Warrior of Light over for drinks. And, to his delight and admittedly surprise, she had accepted.





	Cold Hands

Aymeric straightened the sleeve on his shirt, knowing it was nervous fidget, but being unable to stop himself anyway. He had invited the Warrior of Light, Aryae, over for drinks. And, to his delight and admittedly surprise, she had accepted.

He had a soft spot for the dragoon, since before the times they were on well enough terms to invite the woman over for drinks at his manor. He remembered when she was simply a dragoon in the Temple Knights, though they had never spoken back then. It wasn’t until after the famed Warrior of Light showed up for their meeting in Coerthas that Estinien had informed him that it was indeed the selfsame Elezen from Ishgard that had stood before him that day.

And now, he was preparing to host her in his manor for a second time – the first having been interrupted by his steward many months before. A dinner that had been cut all too short by the circumstances of the times.

He glanced over at a looking glass near the door, his cheeks were slightly flushed. This wouldn’t do, he was far too overjoyed at the thought of a quiet evening in with Aryae and a few drinks. Moving away from the door, he settled onto the couch, trying his best to seem coolly detached from his nerves.

It was only a few moments later that there was a quiet knock on the study door and his butler’s voice carry through from the other side. “Ser Aymeric, the Lady Hawke has arrived.”

He was across the room before the words had even finished, opening the door. “Thank you, and welcome Lady Hawke. Please, come in.”

“Thank you again for the invitation, Ser Aymeric.” Aryae smiled at him, making her way into the study he had made comfortable by lighting the fireplace well ahead of time. She looked around as he closed the door before walking to her side, gesturing to the chairs near the fire.

“Please, make yourself at home while I fetch us drinks.”

But instead of sitting as he had thought her to do, she casually looped an arm through his, walking with him towards the sideboard where he had set the chilled wine. He could feel his heart skip a few beats at the casual contact between them, but fought to keep it off his face.

As if it was every day that the Warrior of Light was in his home, drinking his wine, her arm through his own.

He reached for the wine, hoping to not disturb the hand on his arm, but she drew it away as he poured two glasses of the rich, red wine. He held a glass out to her, and she took it, murmuring her thanks as she took a sip.

“Delicious.” Aryae spoke, and Aymeric could scarce see any trace of the wine on her dark red lips. Which he realised all too late that he shouldn’t be so focused on. When he flicked his eyes back up to hers, he could see a trace of a smile in her gaze. “Did you get this from a local merchant, or did you have to send off for it?”

“Local,” He said, taking a sip of the wine himself. It _was_ a good year, one he had been saving for a special occasion. It had only seemed right to serve it this night. “Lord Edmont recommended this year, and I daresay he was quite right about its magnificent taste.”

Another smile she gave before she turned and made her way to the chairs he had motioned her towards minutes before. “Sit, Ser Aymeric, and tell me how Ishgard has been faring under your rule while I’ve been away stopping the moogles from starting a war with every living creature in the Churning Mists.”

He chuckled, making his way to his own chair. “Lady Hawke, you well know I don’t rule Ishgard-“

“Close enough.” He could see her smile behind the wine glass held to her lips.

“-and thankfully Ishgard is ruling _itself_ quite well these days. Unlike a certain collection of moogles, it would seem.”

“Those godsdamned moogles are going to be the death of me.” Aryae shook her head, setting her half-full glass down on the table between them. “The number of times I’ve had to spear down a ravenous beast intent on having one for a snack, only to find that the moogle had provoked the beast in the first place-“ Seeming to catch herself mid-rant, Aryae cut her words off, shaking her head ruefully. “I am glad to be quit of that place, to say the least.”

“I’m sure the rest of the dragoons will be glad to have you back among their number.” Aymeric said, thinking of Estinien when he said it. His friend would be complaining about the barracks being too cramped before the day was out, while secretly being happy to have all of their few numbers back safe.

“Is it only the dragoons that are happy to see me back in Ishgard?” He couldn’t miss the slight lilt in her voice when she spoke those words, and when he looked to her face she bore the merest hint of a playful smile. “I can’t help but notice that it isn’t my fellow dragoons that have chosen to host me upon my first night back in Ishgard.”

Aymeric cleared his throat, stalling for time by taking a sip of wine. He knew the Warrior of Light to be direct, her path had forced that upon her if she had not already had the disposition. But he couldn’t help feeling a little blindsided by the way she had seen through him so quickly. “No, it isn’t only the dragoons that are glad to see you returned safely, Lady Hawke. I do-“

“Aryae, please.” She broke in, not unkindly, her eyes crinkling at their corners. “I do believe when two people have saved each others’ lives as much as we have that we have earned the right to share first names.”

“Aryae, then, I do indeed keep an ear to all news of you that comes to the city.” He glanced down at the glass in his hands before looking back to her. “And it does make my heart glad to see you have returned.”

“That’s quite a flowery way of saying you missed me, Lord Commander.” Her voice was soft, and he frowned slightly at the title. “ _Aymeric_.” She corrected, the corner of her mouth tilting up when she caught his expression.

“All the same, I have indeed missed you.” The wine was making him feel bold, bolder than he had any right to be. “These months have been long ones, since you last left the city. The light of Ishgard shines slightly dimmer when you are not within its walls.”

Her eyes softened at his words, and he found the courage to reach across the space between their chairs for her free hand. She moved it towards him as he did, and he grasped it in both of his own. He could feel her callused palms, battle worn from years of wielding a spear. “Aryae, this may well seem rather forward of me, but I wish to speak with you of… us. Of this that has been hovering in the air between us for these past months.”

“I wish for you to speak of it as well.” She responded, moving forward in her seat so that they faced one another fully.

As Aymeric worked to gather his thoughts, there was another, much louder knock on the door, followed by it immediately opening. Estinien pushed his way through the door, calling out loudly as he did. “Aymeric, I’m-“ He stopped short at the sight of them, and when his eyes noticeably moved to their joined hands, Aryae was the first to let go. “Oh, there you are. I inquired with Lucia as to your whereabouts and she pointed me here.” He glanced between the two. “Though, to be truthful, I was not expecting to find either of you here. I didn’t think your work allowed you the time to frequent this old place.”

“It does not, spare occasions I set aside the time for.” Aymeric responded, standing to his feet as he set the wine glass down. “It’s good to see you, Estinien. What do I owe the honour of your visit?”

“I was coming to ask if you had heard news of the _Warrior of Light_ having returned to Ishgard, but I see the answer for myself.”

Aryae waved a hand casually from where she was still seated, taking a drink. “Good to see you, Estinien. I was taking a much needed break before returning to the barracks.”

“So I see.” Aymeric could see Estinien watching him out of the corner of his eye. “Far be it for me to interrupt, but I was looking for you for more than just a social call. We have reports of increased beast activity near Dragonhead, towards Mor Dhona.”

Aymeric could have sworn he heard a defeated sigh come from the direction of the fireplace, but Aryae simply stood, setting her emptied wine glass on the table near the chairs. He wanted to speak up, to tell Estinien to find someone – anyone – else, but it wasn’t his place. It had taken him long enough to talk Estinien into taking over any form of mentorship with the dragoons, and he wasn’t going to step on his toes now. When he looked over to Aryae, however, her expression simply seemed resigned. “Of course, I’ll grab my gear and head out.”

“We’re bringing a full crew, so we’ll leave from the barracks in 5.” Estinien was already making his way to the door, but when he glanced at Aymeric over his shoulder, Aymeric saw an apology in the man’s face. “Sorry to interrupt your evening.” Aymeric clapped a hand to his shoulder as he left, before turning to look again to Aryae, her rueful expression matched his own feelings.

“One day we’ll make it through an evening like this without any interruptions.” She said, even though her tone implied that she didn’t quite believe her own words. “Let’s try this again after yet another crisis has been handled, shall we?”

He held out his hand to hers, and pulled hers up to press his lips to them. “I very much look forward to it.”

* * *

It had been a long, far-too-silent three days when Lucia brought Aymeric troubling news one morning.

“Ser, news from the skywatcher.” Her voice carried a certain note of urgency that he knew she didn’t use lightly. “A blizzard is on its way to Coerthas, the worst of it will be on Dragonhead tomorrow.”

Though he was already listening to his trusted companion’s words, his head snapped up at the mention of Dragonhead. “That’s where-“

“Yes, ser. Estinien, the Warrior of Light, and the other dragoons have made camp at Dragonhead after receiving those reports a mere four days ago. I have no doubt they’re still there, unaware of the changing weather.”

Aymeric was on his feet before Lucia had finished talking. “If they get stranded in this blizzard without proper preparations it could mean trouble. Let us be off, we must make haste for Camp Dragonhead.”

* * *

Aryae had fought until she was dead on her feet, but the rampaging horde of beasts had finally been defeated. It had been a pleasant surprise when Aymeric and Lucia had shown up, both bearing news of the incoming blizzard as well as bringing soldiers to help with the fight. The enemy had been fought back, she hadn’t had a chance to sleep in several days, and she could feel the fatigue deep behind her eyes.

“Let us return to Ishgard at once.” Estinien called to the dragoons, Lucia ordering the same to the Temple Knight soldiers. Aryae longed for the warm fires of Ishgard, but knew she didn’t want to attempt the trek back under her current tiredness.

“Estinien.” She caught the man by the shoulder as he passed her by, his eyes already set towards the north. “I’m going to ride out the storm in that shack we passed on our way here.”

He frowned down at her. “We don’t know how long this is going to last, you would do best to come back with us.”

Aryae heaved a sigh, feeling the weight on her shoulders increase. “I left the battlefield for Ishgard, then left Ishgard for here. I’ve been fighting for a fortnight with nigh but a mere _memory_ of sleep. I’ll survive, there is food enough for me in my pack.” Estinien looked as if he wanted to argue, but she cut him off. “Please, Estinien. The blissful silence of a place where I cannot be found would be a _gift_ at this point.”

His grumpy expression didn’t change, but he nodded his response before turning away. “As long as everyone knows I didn’t choose to leave their Warrior of Light out here to die in this storm.”

Aryae followed the group, peeling off unnoticed when they passed the abandoned shack she had spotted on their way in. Closing the door behind her, she made quick work of stripping off her outermost gear and replacing it with some of the warmer clothes she had packed for the journey. Lighting a fire in the meagre fireplace and throwing a fur on the floor, she settled down, feeling her eyes growing heavy already. She would get some rest before making her journey back and feel all the better for it.

* * *

When she woke, her body was moving before she quite understood what her subconscious was reacting to. Reaching for the spear that she had laid at her side, her mind caught up with her body when she realised that amidst the sounds of wind, she was hearing footsteps outside the small shack. Not taking the time for armour, she waited until the footsteps were on the opposite side of the building from the door, and she quietly opened the door, slipping out into the storm, her spear poised and ready to strike.

When she leapt around the building, the sight of familiar blue and gold armour drew her up short, and she slammed her spear into the ground to steady her footing. “A-Aymeric?” He had his sword drawn, just as ready to attack as she had been, and she watched his expression change from determination, to shock, to chagrin. “What are you doing out here? You should be halfway returned to Ishgard by now.”

He sheathed his sword, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “I was, or close to it. When Estinien informed me that you had stayed behind to weather the storm in this place, I…” His voice trailed off, as he looked at their surroundings before finally looking back at her face, his words soft. “I had to see that you were safe.”

Aryae couldn’t help a small laugh at his words, feeling a flutter in her chest as she did. “I thank you for your concern, but I’ve survived many cold nights camped out here. And much worse in other lands.” She added, thinking of the places her travels had brought her.

“Indeed, but those didn’t take place in Ishgard’s backyard with my knowing.” He smiled ruefully at her. “Pray, return to your rest. I’ll keep watch while you sleep.”

“There’s no need for you to be trapped in this cold as well.” She responded, shaking her head slightly. “Give me a few minutes to warm my armour by the fire and we can return before this gets much worse.”

Aymeric nodded and followed her back into the shack, closing the door securely behind him.

* * *

He watched as the Warrior of Light laid out her armour in front of the fire, she winced when she touched the cold metal. “Here, let me add more wood.” He moved to the hearth, reaching for a roughly cut log, but she held up a hand.

“If we make the fire bigger, it will take that much longer before we are able to quit this place for risk of burning it down.” She smiled up at him, a sight that made his breath catch. “We wouldn’t want to burn down half of Coerthas with a misplaced log.”

“I have my doubts that anything would burn in his storm.” He answered, and when she moved to stand he reached out a hand to help her to her feet. When he felt her chilled fingers on his, he stilled. He wrapped both of his hands around hers, shocked at the cold in them. His own were warmer, and he had been patrolling through the elements. Without saying a thing, he squeezed her hands before dropping them and turning, tossing two logs on the fire. Cutting off her protests, he frowned slightly towards her. “Were we to head back now, you would be at great risk for frostbitten fingers, between the cold in your hands and your steel armour.”

It was her turn to look chagrin, and she pulled the wobbly chairs towards the fire, gesturing to them. “Then please, make yourself at home while I fetch us drinks.” Her words drew a laugh from them both, and he watched as she rifled through her pack until she pulled out a water skin, a cup, and two small wrapped parcels. “You’ll have to wait for the water to warm before I can make the tea, however.”

“Allow me.” Aymeric took the water skin from her, and the small tin pot she offered next. Many times had he done this exact thing back in his days of training.

“It _is_ always nice to see a master at work.” Aryae commented, and her smile was infectious. “Campfire tea is truly a work of art.” He felt his own lips tugging upwards in a smile, and they stayed in comfortable silence for the few minutes it took for the pan of water he was holding over the fire to come to a boil.

He reached for the cup she held out, glanced to make sure the tea had been added, and poured the water in. The warmth felt good against his own hands, but he passed it over to Aryae. “Now, enjoy the warmth while this steeps.”

“Thank you, Aymeric.” She gripped the cup, pressing it to her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “This feels divine.”

Trying to not take the opportunity to stare at her when she couldn’t see him looking, he busied himself with setting the emptied pan on the floor and moving to sit in the free chair at her side. When he settled himself into the chair, he peeled off his gloves to warm his hands over the fire.

“Here, use this instead.” She held the cup out to him, but he shook his head.

“Nay, that’s for your own use.” When she stubbornly continued to hold it out towards him, he feigned hurt. “I made it for you, are you returning the gift I have given you?” This drew a laugh from her again, and Aymeric returned the smile, feeling the laughter seep into his soul.

“Please do not be so dramatic. I do believe I said _I_ would be fetching us the drinks.” She reached for his hands and placed the teacup into them. “And since I thought not to bring a cup for any company, this need be yours.”

“And I believe I still owe you that drink from a few nights ago, when we were interrupted.” He pushed the cup back into her hands. “Now, drink up. It will warm you faster than any fire.”

Without further argument, she took a sip of the tea, and sighed. “If only I had thought to bring sugar.” She offered the cup to him. “If you’re going to force this gift on me, the least you can do is share it with me.”

Aymeric smiled, accepting the cup and taking a drink of it himself. She was right, sugar would have made the tea better, especially since his own morning tea always contained birch syrup for sweetness. He passed it back to her and she took with without complaint. “That’s not the worst campfire tea I’ve ever had. At the least, this one wasn’t made with dirty river water that Estinien tried to boil the dirt out of.”

Aryae laughed, holding the tea cup against her face again before taking a sip. “That very much sounds like Estinien. You’ve known him long, have you not?”

“A long time, yes. Ever since we both trained in the Temple Knights together.” He accepted the cup offered to him again. “It feels like so long ago. Both of us had lost our parents, though I had been taken in by House Borel, and he by the former Azure Dragoon. You weren’t in the Temple Knights back then, were you?”

“Not yet, my training began several years after yours and Estinien’s.” Aryae took the cup, holding it in her hands and staring into it for a few moments before answering. “It wasn’t until I lost my own family that I made my way to the Temple Knights to make something of myself.”

“I’m sorry that you experienced those losses as well, it is not an easy path to walk.” Aymeric said, feeling an ache in his heart at the pained expression on her face. “And sorry as well that I do not remember you from your times in the Temple Knights, if I myself was serving at the same time.”

She smiled at this, taking a drink before passing him the cup. “Please, put it out of your mind. I was locked away behind lancer mail. I would scarcely recognise myself if I could look back to those days, along with the fact that I kept to myself more than was prudent.” At the unmistakable look of questioning on his face, she continued, “After losing so many people so early in life, it was not easy for me to allow others to matter to me again. In fact, if not for the Scions forcing their way into my life when this all began, I daresay it never would have become easier.”

“Then I shall give my thanks yet again to the Scions, this time for what they have done for you, rather than what they have done for the realm.” Her eyes still held a touch of pain at the memories she was most obviously experiencing, but her lips still turned up slightly in a smile. Encouraging himself first, he set the cup down on the floor near them, and turned his chair slightly, to face her own, reaching for her hands and taking them in his. “And I thank Halone that you are able to allow others into your life, as you have so allowed me thus far. My life would be ever so dimmer without you a part of it.”

He could see the slightest of flush to her cheeks in a way that was never there through their playful banter, or even her slight flirting words at times. She held his gaze and didn’t remove her hands from his, but squeezed them for a moment. “As would mine, without you there.”

They sat this way for several moments, both unwilling to look away, before Aymeric cleared his throat quietly, finding the courage to speak further. “Aryae, I know this may seem rather forward of me, but I must needs tell you how I feel, and I only ask that you listen before making a judgement.” When she nodded, he continued. “I am well aware of the lives the both of us lead, there is little time for rest and far less to spend with those we hold dear.” He took a breath, steeling himself to continue. “But I do hold you very dear to me. I have come to care for you in a way that I have not felt for another in years, and despite knowing everything about the hardships that would face us, I wish-“

He broke off at the feel of one of her hands loosening from his own, and he felt his heart drop. It sped up again however when she touched her hand to his face, her fingers gentle on his cheek. “Finally.” She said, her eyes crinkling in a smile as her thumb brushed his skin. “And here I thought it would be me that had to make the first move.”

Her words took but a moment to sink in, and Aymeric felt his pulse quicken. “You mean you, as well…?” She nodded to his unfinished sentence, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck.

“Aymeric, there are fair few reasons why I make my way back to Ishgard whenever I’m not slaying another godsdamned eikon. And you’re one of those reasons.”

“Truly?” He scarcely recognised his own voice, and it broke in the middle of the word.

When he felt the tug on the back of his neck, his hand left hers and moved to pull her face towards his. He pressed his lips to hers, wondering if he was going to wake up from his dream or if he would be allowed to stay in this bliss. When they pulled apart, he could hear his own breath coming short, and he could feel the smile on her lips even though she was too close for him to see it.

“I do believe you’ve just added yet another reason for my constant return to Ishgard.” She said before he pulled her into another kiss.

* * *

It wasn’t far too short a time before Estinien found them, having returned with rations and gear from the rest of the dragoons and Temple Knights that wouldn’t be requiring it as they were making good time to Ishgard. Aymeric was surprised at the dragoon’s ability to keep quiet about the embrace he had seen them in before they had quickly broken apart, he knew it was far too much to hope for that Estinien wouldn’t be giving him an earful about it as soon as they were alone.

But as the three sat around the fire hours later, the blizzard swirling outside the thin walls, Aymeric decided to enjoy what he had in that moment. And as he caught Aryae’s eyes on him, her smile spread throughout him like warmth and he knew this was the beginning of something he wouldn’t let go of without a fight.


End file.
